Foiled Plans and Acts of Defiance
by torncorpse
Summary: Pike/Face non-con. Based on the "Hello handsome" when Pike sees Face near the end of the movie. Deals with rape and aftermath, slight Hannibal/Face end.


Foiled Plans and Acts of Defiance

He knows that he's out of options right then, and drops the gun at Pike's direction, glaring at the Black Forest asshole as he smirked. "Wow, this is turn about." Pike approaches, keeping his weapon raised and that damn smirk on his face and dropped from the container to stand in front of Face. "How about we lose the hardware, huh?" The comm is pulled from Face's ear, he can't hear Hannibal or B.A anymore. It's the smug look that irritates him the most, he'd love to just wipe it off Pike's face and he could, he would, if Pike didn't have a damn automatic weapon pointed at his chin.

"Well hoorah for you." Face can't help the retort, even with the gun in his face and imminent death approaching. He figures that in a few minutes, he'll find out if the kevlar helmet worked or not. He hopes it does, that Murdock and the others are fine and pull though -although the after-life with Murdock would be kind of cool.

"Nice little show you boys put on, very eye catching, hooked Lynch no problem." And Face knew it would, what he hadn't planned for was Pike and a goddamned rocket launcher punching a hole in the side of the ship. "But oh, oh it just wasn't good enough was it, pretty boy?"

"Are you going to shoot me, or talk me to death?" Face really didn't want to listen to Pike's gloating. With a laugh, Pike brought his elbow round quickly and smacked into the side of Face's jaw. He stumbled slightly, almost tripping over some of the debris around his feet before leaning on the side of the container at his back.

"You know, there was one thing I always wondered about," Face is rubbing his jaw, pushing himself up with one hand so that he's not sprawled against the container. He knows that Pike likes to talk, likes to run his mouth and fluff up his ego, there's a chance he'll drop his guard and Face will just take that moment. Until then, he needs to listen to Pike though. "All those little rumours that were flying around, just how much of 'em were true?"

Face actually scoffs, he's pretty sure that Pike can read the 'are you serious?' in his expression and he almost laughs. "Seriously? You actually spent time thinking about that?" Because Face is aware of the rumours that Pike means, the ones that pretty much paint Face as the camp whore, the ones that say he'd sleep with anything, and the ones that were pretty vicious in stating that the team shared more than just bunk space.

They were all just rumours, no inkling of evidence to back anything up, and if Face had slept with everyone that said he'd slept with them, well he wouldn't have been doing much else. Some guys just liked to have a story to tell their friends, and Face never denied or confirmed anything, so rumours got started and spread and Face just shrugged it off. People didn't need to know he was a little more picky about who he shared a bed with, "I'm absolutely flattered that you put so much thought into my recreational activities." Pike just laughs again, swapping the automatic for a 9mm and pressing it to the center of Face's head.

"Wonder how pretty you'll be with your brains all over this box." Face just meets Pike's stare, because if he's going to die well he's not going to die with his eyes closed. "See what Smith has to say then, eh? Think they'll keep running, even after you're toast?" Pike is practically pressing against Face by now, and the gun moves from his head to under his chin. "Maybe I wanna see about those rumours myself, hmm?" Pike presses in again, his lips pressing to Face's and the Ranger jerks back, head hitting the container with a thump before Pike presses his hand into the junction of Face's collarbone and digs the gun up into the bottom of Face's jaw. "Ah, ah. None of that now."

Face thinks he'd rather take a bullet than let Pike kiss him, but he's not exactly all for the idea of dying and surely this will give him the opening he needs to beat the ever loving shit out of Pike. When Pike leans in again, Face makes himself stay still, he doesn't intend on opening his mouth for Pike when he feels the tongue press for entrance, but Pike presses the gun into Face's throat harder and squeezes his fingers at Face's shoulder and he finally has to concede to it and open his mouth.

Under completely different circumstances, maybe eight months ago -or, actually, probably ten months ago, Face wouldn't be so opposed to letting Pike make his own stories. There was some pretty good potential there. But then shit happened with Murdock blowing up the Black Forest jeep and Pike decided to start a pissing contest with Hannibal and Face was more interested in loyalty to his team than a roll in the sack. Considering Pike used a bit too much teeth for Face's liking and was getting off a little too much on the gun play, Face figured it was probably for the best.

The worrying thing is, Pike seems to think the opposite, if the bites along his jaw are anything to go by. Face is struggling to not just clock him one and take the bullet in the head that will follow. If there's a chance he can get out of this alive, he should take it. Only, when Pike slides a leg between Face's, and Face can feel the hard on, Pike's hand moves from his shoulder to start undoing Face's belt, that's when Face does lash out.

His fist comes up instinctively, and Pike sees it, blocks it before pressing the gun into Face's shoulder and pulling the trigger. The pain flares instantly and Face sways back and he shouts out in agony. He doesn't tip to the ground, instead pinned by Pike's body and the psycho just smirks, "Play nice, pretty boy." Face is trying to breath through the pain in his shoulder and he's only dimly aware that the bullet went straight through and it doesn't feel like anything is damaged beyond his shoulder possibly being broken. He's too caught up in figuring out if he can still move his fingers to realise that Pike has both of their pants undone, until he's grabbed by the elbow and spun around for his face to hit the container. "I don't know about you, but damn, all this destruction just gets me so damn hot."

A gloved finger in pushed up Face's ass and jars his mind from the pain in his shoulder to the sudden discomfort in his ass and he tries to twist to bring his other elbow up to meet Pike's nose. His back is pushed back down before he gets half way there and Pike presses his arm over the top of Face's back, his elbow leaning heavily on the shoulder he'd just shot. Pike seems to get off on pain just as much as destruction, because Face feels the finger leave and there's the press of a cock to his ass straight after.

There's no more prep, and Pike just pushes in and if Face didn't have a determination to hold onto his dignity through this, he would've cried out. "Jesus, fuck. You're tight." Pike bucks into him like he's fucking a woman, and Face bites his bottom lip to make himself quiet while his fist clenches against the container. "Come on, baby. Don't you like it?" Pike groans and Face almost whimpers when the speed increases. There's just pain and blood and this desire to just pass out. But Pike's arm presses down harder on Face's shoulder and the pain flares up again and Face is far too conscious of everything around him. "Fuck yes, I bet those rumours are just as true about your damn mouth, huh? Gonna suck my cock, pretty boy?"

Pike pulls out, and Face hisses despite himself at the pain, before he's twisted round again and his back is slammed against the container. Pike presses the gun into his shoulder again while his other hand grips at Face's hair, tugging roughly. His mouth is open to spout something else of, even as he starts to push Face down, until the lights start to pan out over the area and helicopters can be heard over the roaring fires and the creaking containers. "Well damn," Pike pulls his hands away, zips up his pants before pulling Face in for a hard, biting kiss and pushing him back again. "Maybe next time, sweetheart."

Face slides to the ground as Pike darts off through the containers. It takes him a few seconds to pull himself to his feet, hissing at the pain with every movement he makes and silently promising himself a painful death for Pike at some point. He pulls himself together with one hand before stumbling through the containers to find Hannibal and the others. He's pretty sure he's nearly there when there's another gun suddenly in his face and he jerks a hand out in response to grab it.

"Face?" His fingers loosen on the wrist when Charissa's voice meets his ears and he just pitches forward to lean on her shoulder, keeping his own away from her to avoid yet more pain.

"Hey, beautiful." His voice sounds wrong to his own ears and before he can stand up, Charissa is turning and walking and half dragging him in the direction he was initially moving in, shouting for a medic and then for Smith. Face just lets it all go by in a daze.

/

He has to sit through lights being shone in his eyes and his blood pressure being taken and a series of idiotic questions that get a blank look from him most of the time before Hannibal tells the nurse that he's fine and she huffs before wandering away. Face stares at the mess around them from the stretcher he's leaning against -he's refused to sit, because just walking aggravates a whole world of pain and he'd rather avoid it.

"What happened?" Hannibal is sitting behind him, Murdock and B.A to the side where B.A is teasing Murdock for a change.

"Pike." Face doesn't go into details, just watching B.A press a stethoscope to Murdock's forehead and tell him to shush.

"Dead?" Face sighs slightly, shaking his head while he brings his hand up to press over his newly bandaged shoulder. It wasn't broken, he was told. The bullet went clean through, missed the veins and anything important, but clipped the muscle and tendon connecting his shoulder and collarbone. He would've been better with a clean break. "We'll get him."

And Face just nods his agreement.

The questions stop as the cars pile in and Lynch is taken away by the C.I.A and then the MPs show up and the four of them are taken back into custody. Face can't struggle, but he jerks out of the hands that grab his shoulders and glares at the two MPs as they move to grab him again. The others are cuffed, hands behind their backs, Face's injury means his are cuffed in front of him. They seem to know better than to put standard cuffs on him if they're in front, but he takes one glance at the cuffs and knows they'll be little problem to get out of.

They're led towards a containment van, heading back to prison, when Charissa comes over and grabs his good elbow, "Face," she clearly wants to say something, but doesn't, shakes her head and Face can see that she didn't want it to turn out like this.

"Hey, no worries," he needs to keep the air of calm, needs to hold onto the last remnants of persona right then. There's too big an audience for any kind of weakness. Charissa leans up, pressing a kiss to his cheek and Face is glad he saw it coming so he didn't flinch from it.

"Dan Steel, reservation at the Diego for four." Face has a grin on his face as pulls back, and Charissa just nods as she backs up and then turns away. Face knows that she won't jeopardise her career when it comes down to the line, but he knows she feels like shit over this, so he'll trust her on this one, and any others afterwards will need to be a case by case assessment.

He's in the van with the others for less than five minutes before his hands are free and he's kneeling off the uncomfortable steel bench. Sitting is definitely out of the question.

"So what's the rest of this plan?" Hannibal asks while Face gets Hannibal's cuffs off with a flick and twist and then shifts to get B.A's as subtly as possible. Hannibal gets Murdock free and uses a hand to keep the pilot from shifting about too much, needing to keep the allusion of them still being contained.

"Honestly, I was hoping you'd have this part figured out." Hannibal just smirks, although Face gets a strange look for not sitting back on the bench, he's pretty sure he can wave it off as muscle pain from avoiding the containers earlier on.

"Where are we heading to?"

"West 22nd and Patton." Face remembers the Diego Hotel rather well, a week and a half on leave and he doesn't think he and Charissa left the hotel once in all that time. It was the first few months of their relationship and he things might've looked hopeful for him and Sosa if he hadn't been on the run and she hadn't been so career orientated.

"Okay, here's the plan."

Dan Steel's reservation happens to be two rooms, two double beds in each and each of them agree that one night is enough and then they'll leave L.A for a while. Face slips into the bathroom the minute he can, ignoring Hannibal's shout to keep his shoulder from getting wet and he turns on the shower as hot as it'll go.

He contemplates burning his clothes before he remembers he doesn't have a change right then and ends up just kicking them under the sink before climbing into the tub/shower combo and just standing under the spray. He tries to keep his shoulder out of the stream for the most part, but it gets to be too much work and Face just leans his head against the wall and drifts off.

It's Murdock that startles him when he bursts into the bathroom to check on him, and Face slips on the tub and nearly hits the deck before Murdock can grab him. The noise attracts Hannibal and B.A who stand in the doorway with smirks on their faces while Murdock pulls Face out of the tub. It's not the first time Face has fallen asleep standing up and it's not the first time there's been an incident that woke him up -and usually it is Murdock that triggers these scenarios. But Face could do without it right then.

"Sorry, sorry," when he's standing on his feet, grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist one handed and shaking his head to get the water out of his face, he tries not to lean too heavily on Murdock. B.A snickers again and wanders away, but Hannibal has a serious expression on his face when he turns to Murdock.

"Can you give us a minute, Captain?" And Face figures he's going to get shit for getting his shoulder wet, because now they're going to have to redress the wound and it's something they don't really have the tools for -unless the hotel has some rather interesting stocks in their first aid kits.

"Listen, I'm sorry, I'm exhausted and I zoned out, it's not that big a deal," Murdock clicks the door closed behind him while Face pokes slightly at the dressing on his shoulder -it's really not that wet, maybe just a little damp and slightly wet around the edges where it caught the spray as Face tripped coming out of the tub.

"Sit down." Hannibal cuts him off with the order and Face frowns.

"What?"

"Sit down." Face swallows nervously, wets his lips and goes to talk before shutting his mouth and thinking through all the possible reasons he has for not wanting to sit down. Hannibal puts the lid down over the toilet and moves to the side. "Sit down, Lieutenant." And the tone makes it an order. One of the first orders that Face has outright disobeyed.

"No." Face doesn't want to explain it, doesn't want to go into detail because he knows Hannibal and knows that the Colonel will make a vendetta out of it. Sure, Face would like to see Pike strung up, but Hannibal is ten times worse than anything Face could come up with when one of them is injured.

"Face, what the hell happened out there?" Hannibal crowds into Face's personal space and it's an internal battle not to shift away from him. Hannibal's hand comes up to tilt Face's head, and Face instantly pulls his chin away from Hannibal's fingers. "Face?"

"It's nothing okay, I'm just tired." Which is partly why he fell asleep standing in the shower. It's not the only reason but it's enough of one. "I'm tired and sore and it's been a long few days." For all of them, which is probably why Hannibal is like a dog with a bone here. He barely even thinks when Hannibal pushes him to sit down with a hand on his good shoulder; he's too tired to keep up, he's too used to following Hannibal's directions and it's just that little bit too much on top of everything else.

He's barely even sitting on the edge of the tub before he hisses and winces and starts to stand up again. He's about to shout at Hannibal when he sees the expression on the Colonel's face and knows that Hannibal has added two and two and reached four, just like always. Hannibal's always had the sharpest mind, it's why it's so easy for Face to play off of. Hannibal has the brilliant ideas, the excellent schemes, and Face has the know how to facilitate for Hannibal's every whim.

It's almost like Face can see the cloud of red mist descend over Hannibal's eyes as Hannibal turns and stalks out of the bathroom, almost pulling the door off it's hinges at the ferocity of his anger. Face follows at a slightly slower pace, watching Hannibal pull out drawers and look in the cupboard before growling and kicking the bedside table. Murdock and B.A are drawn into the commotion again, Murdock watching wide eyed from one of the beds while B.A stands in the doorway to the adjoining room. "Rip his fucking spine out." Hannibal's voice is nothing but a growl, Face notices Murdock skitter back on the bed and B.A's fists clench. They're all wound tighter than springs and the littlest of things can set any one of them off. "He is not getting away again, I don't care what we have to do." Hannibal is fuming, beyond fuming and Face is finding it hard to actually stay composed.

"Jesus Christ, would you just stop? We can't even see straight never mind think straight, nothing is going to happen right now." Because they have no assets, no contacts. They can't squeeze some C.I.A equipment out of Lynch anymore, and if they set foot on US Military land they'll probably be shot on sight.

"Are you kidding me? You just want to let this go?" Hannibal stops pacing, shouting directly at Face and the conman is more worried about what the people in the room through the wall must be thinking. "He fucking _raped_ you." And its the word that sets everything cascading.

"I know!" Murdock gives a little squeak, nearly trying to move through the wall while B.A's expression hardens and he cracks his knuckles. "I know, okay." Face hates that there's a waver in his voice, and he can feel his heart kicking up, because up until now he's been able to put it to the back of his mind, let himself focus on the pain and getting away and then the pain again. But now it's blaring in his head like a damn siren and he can't shut it off.

Hannibal must see that he's close to breaking, because a gruff order to B.A and Murdock has the two of them leaving the room and closing the door that connects their rooms after them. Hannibal crosses the room in a few steps and pulls Face against his chest just as Face bites back a sob, because damnit, he's not a kid any more. But Hannibal strokes his hand through Face's hair, rubbing his back with the other one, and Face just sobs silently against Hannibal's shoulder. "I'm sorry," it's almost like Hannibal is trying to calm a skittish cat, and Face would laugh if he wasn't busy choking on his own sobs.

Hannibal just keeps holding him, and Face just clings to his side for dear life.

/

In light of the new information, they stay for two days and two nights at the Diego before Hannibal really feels they need to get moving. Face is sure that they're treating him like glass in some sort of misplaced concern sort of way, he'd really rather they just acted like nothing was different, but at the same time, the concern is a little bit touching. Hannibal has barely let him out of his sight, and Face is starting to feel a little bit smothered.

He manages to get a few minutes to himself in the hotel lobby when they're waiting for B.A to drive around with whatever car he picks from the parking lot across the street. He knows that Hannibal can see him from where he's standing, and he doesn't act like a brat and try to move out of the old man's line of sight. He calls Charissa from the pay phone at the hotel, partly making sure that everything is fine on her end of things, partly to let her know that Pike is still on the loose. She tells him that Lynch -or whatever his name is, escaped C.I.A custody earlier that morning and is off the grid.

Face isn't looking forward to sharing that tidbit of information with Hannibal.

"Will I be able to contact you?" He's a little thrown by that, because he didn't expect her to want to contact them. They're fugitives, she's D.O.D. Really it'd be a career killer right there.

"Do you want to?" He turns so that his back in to Hannibal, because he's feeling far too exposed under that gaze.

"I might," and Face can hear the grin through the phone, and he manages one of his own. "From time to time." His first instinct is to ask her what she's wearing, but he knows she'll just roll her eyes and slam the phone down and that'll be the end of that until he calls her again, and really, he's not sure when he'd call her again.

"I'll keep the email." There are about nine people who know his personal email, three of them are with him, two of them are dead, one of them is her. He doubts that it'll be what leads to their downfall, and it does, he'll kick his own ass so Hannibal doesn't have to.

"Face," Hannibal calls his name from across the lobby and Face turns to see B.A and Murdock packing up a black car with the stuff they'd retrieved over that last two days.

"I gotta go," and parting words with Charissa have never been so awkward. "Stay beautiful." She whispers a 'bye' down the line and Face hangs up, wiping the front of the pay phone with the sleeve of his jacket before crossing the lobby to meet Hannibal. "Lynch is out." It's best to just get it out there, like ripping off a band-aid. And Hannibal sighs with a glare.

Hannibal slips into the front seat beside B.A while Face joins Murdock in the back. It's not the best vehicle they've travelled in, but it's not the worst, and Face can actually sit without much discomfort. They aren't even sure where they're going when they start, only that it's in the general direction of Canada and they'll figure the rest out later. It's pretty clear that Hannibal's plan is still in the midst of forming and they just hang back and wait for him to clear up the rest of it.

Face starts to nod off about fifty miles into the drive, but jerks awake the minute he leans into Murdock. It's Murdock that acts like he's just been burnt and starts apologising, and this is exactly what Face didn't want. "It's okay, Murdock, it's okay, calm down, take a breath." The pilot stops and stares and Face can feel B.A watching them in the rear view mirror and Hannibal just leans over his chair to stare at them. "It's my shoulder." They took the wrong seats, because it's just where they usually sit when in a car or jeep or van, and neither of them thought it through.

Realisation takes a few minutes to dawn on Murdock and then there's a spark of an idea. "Can you, here, slide this way." They both unfasten their seatbelts and Face follows the direction to slide along the back seat. Murdock starts to climb over him, kicking the back of B.A's chair, "Oops," his butt bumps the back of Hannibal's chair before he falls into what was Face's seat and Face chuckles slightly at the rumpled state of the pilot just from swapping seats. "There, now you've got your very own H.M Pillow."

Face would argue, maybe try to stay awake just to prove he's fine and nothing is wrong, but he's still tired and Murdock did put in the effort to provide the comfort and Face just shrugs before leaning over to rest his head on Murdock's shoulder. He's just dozing when he feels Murdock shift, and then there's an arm carefully sliding across his neck and back, pulling him a little closer and it's just slightly more comfortable, so Face just continues dozing against Murdock.

/

They stop in Sacramento, because if Murdock sings another driving song, Face is pretty sure B.A will punch the poor guy. The minute the car stops, Murdock is out the door and running around the car park going on about Billy -his not quite there dog. Face is pretty sure Billy should've died a long time ago since he's probably as old as Murdock is.

Face gets them two rooms again, but can't get any with adjoining doors, the motel only has three of those and they're already occupied. They're on the ground floor, the rooms are two doors away from each other and Face is holding two keys when Hannibal decides that Murdock and B.A will share again and he'll share with Face. B.A sighs, when Murdock starts talking about pillow fights and movie marathons, Face is close to offering to swap just to get the break from Hannibal's mothering. But there's a small smirk on B.A's face, and he guesses that maybe he's not as put out as he's pretending to be when he takes the key from Face and pulls Murdock along to their room.

Hannibal takes the key from Face's loose fingers and Face just trails along behind Hannibal, carrying his bag in a loose grip while his other arm just lies limply by his side. He's starting to think he might actually need to find a doctor somewhere to look at it.

It's slightly awkward, Hannibal standing at the far end of the room and Face standing at the end of the bed he'll be sleeping in -because Hannibal always takes the one near the window and Face is always in the one beside the bathroom wall. His bag is dropped to the floor and Face shrugs of his jacket, dropping that to the end of his bed as well. Hannibal is just staring at Face when he looks up, and Face starts to get a little uncomfortable under that gaze when it doesn't slip at all in two minutes. When Hannibal finally moves, it's to cross the room, and Face finds himself leaning back against the wall almost sub-consciously.

Every movement Hannibal makes is slow and cautious and calculated; from the hand that rests on Face's hip to the fingers that slide into his hair to the slow and hesitant lean in until Hannibal brushes their lips together. And it's this that really tells Face that Hannibal is treating him like glass, because all the times before -the near death missions or the time when the tension gets too much or that time they both got far too drunk while sending off a former comrade, all those other times Hannibal had been more assertive, far more assertive. Face just sighs into it though, lets Hannibal find his pace. The soft brush becomes something more pressing, lips sliding over lips like they're meant to, the soft press of tongue that licks over Face's bottom lip. Hannibal doesn't deepen things though, just strokes his hands over Face's side and his hair, slants his lips again and kisses like it's going out of fashion and Face just leans against the wall, enjoying the familiarness and the strangeness all over again.

It's been too long since Hannibal's been pressed against him, and Face wishes his shoulder wasn't in the state it was in, wishes he wasn't sore for all kinds of reasons. As Hannibal's hand slides from Face's hip to curve around to his spine, Face places his hand on Hannibal's shoulder and pulls away from the kiss. "I- Hannibal, I ca-" Hannibal silences him with a soft, chaste kiss.

"That's not where this is going." And really, he could've fooled Face. But Hannibal just presses kisses to Face's jaw, and Face basks in the contact, because he's been avoiding it for days now and he's only just realised it. "It's just about this," about lips against his throat, and hands under his shirt, stroking up his spine, fingers softly caressing through his hair and then stroking over his neck. "You must be starved for it." Hannibal knows that Face craves contact, not affection, not love, not any of that. But contact, flesh to flesh, skin to skin, even just the steadying hand on a shoulder. It's a throw back from years of just being another kid, of getting no physical affection that now it's all he truly craves from all those encounters.

Face just sighs, turning his head to catch Hannibal's lips in another kiss, deeper this time, longer, and Face is the one to slip his tongue past Hannibal's lips, answering the unasked question of 'is this okay' that Face can feel in Hannibal's posture. It's more than okay, and Face doesn't want to flinch away or slip out of Hannibal's grip or anything. He's perfectly happy to lean against the mauve wall, Hannibal's hands running over his skin, kissing the Colonel until neither of them have the energy to stand any longer.

/

Disclaimer: The A-Team does not belong to me. They belong to themselves and their creators. No money was made from this.


End file.
